


Through the Veil

by elijahking (orphan_account)



Category: Undertale (Video Game), Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Confusion, Crossover, Humor, M/M, Science Stuff, and it happened, crossover fic, i had an idea, i'll figure out how to tag this later, magic stuff, magical science stuff, teleportation mishap, very little actual relationship stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:58:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5526215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/elijahking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Sans overshoots his destination when teleporting. Usually, it's only by a few feet. On occasion, it's a mile or two. Once, he ended up in the Capitol when he wanted to drop something off at Alphys's lab.<br/>But this?<br/>Was nowhere NEAR where he wanted to go. Can Sans make it back to the Underground after landing in the strange desert community of Night Vale?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Veil

**Author's Note:**

> this came to me after reading the night vale novel. merry christmas, y'all! i'll work on more of this (and my other fics) after new years!
> 
> the first paragraph where cecil speaks was written by my zucchini, Michael! aka dooptown on tumblr. no he is not a sentient vegetable.

Static crackled in his ear bones, vibrating through his skull. Dizzied, Sans the skeleton tried to steady himself.

"woah. okay there, jelly bones," he laughed a little at himself. "never had that happen before."

It was then that Sans noticed that something was wrong. Very wrong.

“The lone ranger. He is so alone. So very alone. He is putting out an ad so he can be less lonely. Welcome to Night Vale.” Cecil flicked the switch, letting the introductory music flow. When it was finished, he leaned back into the mic. “Hello, listeners! I have an important announcement to make. City council has decreed that all public parking will be reversed this upcoming Thursday. They did not expound upon this, so prepare for anything.”

Sans blinked, looking around the studio. “wh… what. the. f…”

“O-oh!” Cecil spun in his chair, clasping onto the mic. “V-viewers a...small...skeleton? Has materialized in the studio. They're looking around, dazed. They're wearing a blue hoodie and...basketball shorts? Oh! They seem to be trying to communicate with me.” Sans gave a weird look to the man at the mic stand.

“where the hell am i?”

“Hello, skeleton! I ask that you refrain from using words like that. This is a family friendly show, after all.” Sans nodded once, confused. “You are in my studio!”

“okay, i got that much, but where is this studio?”

“Inside the radio station, of course!” Cecil would not stop smiling. Neither would Sans, but it’s not like he could help it.

“…and where is the radio station?” Cecil’s eyes darted back and forth.

“Uh…”

“okay, let me clarify. where on earth are we currently located? what city?”

“Oh! You could have just said so in the first place, silly. We’re in the lovely desert community of Night Vale!”

“is this a joke? because you can pull the veil off my face now.” He grinned at his own joke before realizing Cecil was narrowing his eyes. “aw, come on, throw me a bone here.”

“It is my contractual obligation and _personal_ duty to inform you that puns are outlawed here in Night Vale.” Sans’ jaw dropped. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a show to run? No offense, it’s just… Oh, well, I suppose I can push it up a little early...” Cecil spun again in his chair. “While I figure things out with our new friend, I take you to… the weather!” He flipped another switch, muted his mic, and then turned back to Sans. Music started flowing again. Cecil slid the headphones off his head and gave the stout skeleton a shining smile.

He took this moment to look over him. Tan skin, tattoos covering every inch in a glowing purple (were they _shapeshifting?!_ ), dressed in a yellow raincoat and pink polka dot pants (with matching ducky boots).

Cecil… is interesting.

“uh, this doesn’t sound very much like a weather report to me. though i can’t complain, i dunno what weather is even really like…” He scratched the back of his skull. “ah, ‘m getting ahead of myself.”

“Pun!!” Cecil pointed a sharp finger into his face. Sans jumped back, a little startled.

“unintentional, sheesh!” He raised his hands up in defense.

“Oh! Well, then, my apologies. Just watch that… uh, lack? Of a mouth? Around here. The sheriffs secret police don’t take kindly to those who break the law around here… especially strangers who break the law.”

“this… is going to be very frustrating. well, sorry for the intrusion. i need to go, anyway. nice meeting you, uh…?”

“Oh! I’m Cecil. Cecil Palmer.”

“sans.”

“Well, Sans, it was nice meeting you too! Have fun wherever you’re going!”

With a heavy sigh, he closed his eye sockets. He glowed blue for an instant, trying to step into the fold he had stepped OUT of, but… found… that he couldn’t even do that. So he tried again. And again.

And our smiley radio host continued to stare, patiently.

Sans grunted, becoming frustrated. After a minute of this, he simply gave up.  He let out a huff. This was really tiring him out!

“That, uh, doesn’t look like you’ve gone anywhere,” Cecil pointed out. “Maybe try not using magic, though? You’re messing with the radio frequency.” He tapped on a boxy machine that looked oddly like Mettaton. “This thing was going nuts when you were trying to leave!”

“but, i, uh, didn’t hear anything.” Sans glanced left and right. Cecil nodded, the smile on his face not even changing slightly. “…and how did you know i was using magic? you’re a human, right?”

“Oh, please, anything that glows blue is _definitely_ magic. Or radioactive.” He waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “Same difference. If you look behind you, you can see one of our interns, Garret?” Sans twisted his head around to see a few people behind a pane of glass in the wall. “He’s glowing blue! That’s gotta be magic, right?” Indeed, Garret was glowing blue.

“…uh…”

“But yes, I AM human. I think. That’s what it says on my human certificate, at least. And I passed my human test just last month, so my certification is good for another thirty millennia or so.”

“so i’m on the surface,” Sans breathed, ignoring everything after that first sentence. “i… i have to tell Asgore! what would Alphys think of this! i-we- no souls! the barrier! this is… incredible!” He started to hyperventilate.

“I don’t know what you’re going on about, but it sounds exciting! Um, the weather is just about over. If you’d like, you can help yourself to some refreshments just outside the recording room,” he pointed to the door on the left, which had opened on its own, “and take a seat until I’m finished? I’m sure I could find someone to help you, Sans.”

“…thank you, cecil,” he said with sincerity and shuffling confused through the door, which shut on its own. An intern (he could tell because they were wearing a shirt with “NIGHT VALE COMMUNITY RADIO INTERN” written in bold letters on the back) lent him a chair and gave him a cup of what he assumed was coffee. If it smells like a duck and tastes like a duck, it’s probably a cup of coffee. His hands shook as he tended to the drink.

The surface. He had made it. All that talk of needing the souls – all that lore, all those times the scientists had tried to break the barrier - ! It was astounding. And humans!! These humans, at least, he thought they were humans? They were humanoid. Ish. The closest he’d ever gotten to seeing a human was the bodies of the ones in the castle basement, and, well. He didn’t want to think about their rotting, shriveled up corpses. THESE humans were so… kind? And… they didn’t question the fact that a skeleton was there, in the flesh?

He chuckled at his own joke, again, knowing that, thankfully, no one could read his thoughts. An intern shot him a peevish look. Or could they? Do humans, also, possess magic? According to all the history books, only a few humans every couple of centuries would be born with the ability to wield magic.

No, the intern explained, the sheriff’s secret police read everyone’s mind. Okay, just who ARE these guys? Do they run some sort of mind-control facility? Are you all just pawns in the hands of the government here? Is this how it is in EVERY human city?

“I think they do things differently in Desert Bluffs, but they’re _weird_ there.” The intern shuddered. “And you best keep that kind of talk to a minimum. I have a feeling you’re going to be taken away the minute you step out of here.”

And with that, the intern stopped talking to him, and he thought it best to stop thinking. Maybe take a nap. After all, Cecil’s voice was quite calming. He had just started the Community Calendar bit of the program when Sans started to doze off…

…

…

…

And suddenly, he wakes up! At the exact moment that Cecil strides through the studio door, greeting him with that unfaltering smile.

Honestly, it’s starting to look creepy. Sans was reconsidering his smiley disposition. “Hello, Sans! Good to see you’re still here.” He turned to the mass of interns (had they formed together into a single being? It’s the amalgytes all over again). “Great work today, everyone! Remember, next week station management is doing an audit, so bring your bulletproof vests!” The body nodded, and shambled out of the studio. Sans cocked a not-eyebrow.

“and i thought there were no great surprises left in this world for me…” He shook his skull. “anyhow… nice show. your voice is really, uh, calming.”

“Thank you!” Cecil posed proudly. It made Sans smirk, reminding him of his brother. “Now, you, uh, want to go… somewhere. I don’t know much about magic, but I DO know a scientist who can help us!”

“a-a scientist?!” Sans lept up from the chair, dropping the mug to the ground. Cold coffee spilled everywhere. Actually, it didn’t. There was no coffee in the mug. There was no mug. There was never a mug of coffee. You’re imagining things again. “a scientist! a human scientist?!”

“Uh, yes?”

“PLEASE TAKE ME TO THEM!” He grabbed Cecil by the raincoat, desperation in his eyes. Cecil continued to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes and his eyebrows jerked towards his nose worriedly. “oh. so-sorry,” he released his grip. “i like science… a lot… and it might help explain _how_ i got here and-“

“No problem! You’re probably REALLY confused. Now, come, come! Follow me!”

Ugh, walking. His least favorite activity. If it were up to Sans, he’d just teleport himself and Cecil to wherever it was they were going, but that seemed to be an impossibility in Night Vale. And man, this place was WEIRD! Like. It was like Hotland. But purple. And not hot? But not cold like Snowdin, and not rainy like Waterfall… it was just… Sandy. But not like a beach, either, which Sans had seen a few times before in magazines that had fallen into the Trash Zone. What had Cecil called it, again? A dessert? This place did not look sweet or appetizing.

In fact, it looked… well…

Really normal. Yet a feeling of unease settled deep in Sans’ spine.

Just what, exactly, would Night Vale have in store for him?


End file.
